


Kiss Graveyard

by SaijSpellhart



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! - All Media Types, Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: All kinds of kisses, Bakushipping - Freeform, Blindshipping, Dry Humping, Kisses, M/M, Making Out, Puzzleshipping, Radicalshipping, Romance, casteshipping - Freeform, everyone is making out, kiss prompts, puppyshipping - Freeform, rivalshipping - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29220207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaijSpellhart/pseuds/SaijSpellhart
Summary: A dumping ground for all the kiss drabbles I’m writing. There’s going to be an obscene amount of Puzzle/Blindshipping kisses, with a sprinkling of everything else in between.I opened up my ask box on tumblr to accept kiss prompts and pairings, and these are the results.Prepare for a snog fest.
Relationships: Atem/Mutou Yuugi, Atem/Thief King Bakura, Bakura Ryou/Thief King Bakura/Yami Bakura, Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Seto/Mutou Yuugi, Mutou Yuugi/Yami Yuugi, Yami Bakura/Yami Marik/Mutou Yuugi
Comments: 33
Kudos: 45





	1. Lingering (Puzzleshipping)

**46\. A lingering kiss before a long trip apart. (Puzzleshipping)**

Atem’s foot felt heavy as it touched the first stone step. He almost couldn’t bare to pick up his other foot. To take that next step.

“Wait!”

A relief, so acute it punched the air from his lungs, struck him. He didn’t take another step. But he remained facing forward. He felt if he turned around now, he might not have the will to continue.

“Mou Hitori no Boku, Please don’t! Don’t-“

Atem’s heart clenched so painfully. _Don’t do this to me. We agreed. These were the terms of our duel._ He heard Yugi’s sneakers strike the stone, frantic and rushed, nearly running.

He couldn’t stop himself from turning around and catching his Aibou. Yugi flung himself into Atem’s arms, and Atem wrapped him in the most desperate embrace. He crushed his light into his chest, so tight, so fierce, their hearts might have beat as once more.

“Please...” Yugi whined, lips brushing against Atem’s collarbone. He lifted his face to meet Atem’s stare, and those soul-stealing purple eyes were shedding fresh tears.

Moisture stung the corner of Atem’s eyes. “Yugi, I can’t-“

He never got finish his answer, because Yugi pushed up on his tip-toes and kissed him.

The rest of his words caught painfully in his throat. Or maybe it was the pain of choking back a sob. Either way, Yugi was kissing him. Kissing him with a kind of desperation that robbed Atem of every last shred of self control he had.

He kissed Yugi back.

One hand clutched at Yugi’s lower back, dragging his Aibou closer. Practically picking him off the floor. The other buried in Yugi’s hair, fingers tangling, fisting. Yugi’s hands clutched at his back, nails clawing harshly at the fabric of Atem’s clothes.

The kiss was reckless, and fervid. Like an all consuming fire that threatened his sanity.

Atem tilted his head, and Yugi followed along in kind, angling to take it deeper. Yugi was already parting his lips, anticipating Atem’s tongue that sought his own.

There were a thousand goodbyes in the kiss, and a million pleas to stay. Tears slipped down Atem’s cheeks, flowing unbidden; not even a god could have stopped them at this point.

_Please stay with me_.

It was in the way Yugi clung to him. Fingers clawing so desperately. Heart pounding so frantically, and lips pressed so hard it hurt.

_Yes. Forever. I will._

It was the cruelest lie his heart ever screamed. Every beat, a mantra of devotion and promises to Yugi that would never come to pass.

He committed it all to memory, his taste, his feel, this moment. It was everything he ever wanted. It was all he wanted. It was worth more than a thousand afterlifes. The gods could burn, and the world crumble, and he would sacrifice it all to stay in this moment.

If only he could just live in this one moment.

A tugging at his soul reminded him that this must end.

Atem reluctantly lowered his Aibou back to the ground. It was agony to break the kiss. And his lips dragged over Yugi’s even as they parted. As if he could drag this out for even just a half a second longer. _Please Ra, just one billion more half seconds?_

His hands slipped to either side of Yugi’s face, cupping his cheeks as he met those watery amethyst eyes again.

_I’ll stay with you._

He placed one last lingering kiss against Yugi’s lips.

“Goodbye, my Aibou.”

Even as he spoke the words they burned his tongue. Acrid, and bitter.

Atem forced himself to step back, even as his fingers curled with the need to hold on.

Yugi, clutched at his clothing. As if Atem couldn’t leave if he never let go.

Another step back.

“Goodbye, Mou Hitori... no...” Yugi’s words broke off into sobbing. Atem wanted to drop to his knees and kiss the tears away. To promise him everything. To stay...

The gods beckoned him once more. This time a warning that shook Atem to his soul. He lost the ceremonial duel...

...and it was time to go.


	2. Distractions (Rivalshipping)

**42\. Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead. (Rivalshipping)**

“Seto, stop it. I’m not playing this game.”

“You aren’t... _my_ boss.” The words were punctuated with kisses. Firm lips pressing against the heated skin on the back of Yugi’s neck. “And you will...play.”

Yugi tried to suppress a shiver that rolled down his spine. His fingers stuttered against the keyboard, typing the approximation of “hakijdkahfdskl,” instead of the important work he was supposed to be getting done.

“You said y-you wanted this document finished...by _tonight_ ,” his voice cracked, and jumped, and wobbled all over the place as he felt teeth nip the spot just below his ear.

“I’m extending the deadline.”

“How— _gracious_! of you,” Yugi snapped, but it was really more of a squeak. He tried to squirm to the edge of his chair. Kaiba’s lips had enveloped his earlobe, and sucked on his piercing.

His hands were shaking, pulse racing, and he wasn’t even typing anymore. He couldn’t focus on the words. They all blurred into a mess as his vision went cross eyed, Kaiba continuing to suck on his ear.

“You are making this very hard for me.” Yugi managed to pant out. At some point his hands had gripped the edge of his desk, and his knuckles were turning white now.

“Oh, I’d better be~” Kaiba breathed, trailing his lips down Yugi’s jawline.

There weren’t any bones in his body anymore. The fire in his veins had scorched them all away. He was melting back into the chair, into Kaiba, and quite possible defeat.

“Seto...” Yugi groaned, and caught the predatory look of victory in Kaiba’s steel blue eyes before his own slipped shut. He tilted his head back, breath hitching, and felt his boss’s stupidly sinful mouth close over his own. _You win._


	3. Distractions (Puppyshipping)

**42\. Distracting kisses from someone that are meant to stop the other person from finishing their work, and give them kisses instead. (Puppyshipping.)**

“Get. off. me.”

“Get you off,” Joey confirmed, nodding even as a wolfish grin pulled from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, Kaiba. I got ya covered.” He placed another kiss on the back of Kaiba’s hand. His grip on Kaiba’s duel disk so firm that the CEO couldn’t rip that arm away.

“Ishtar, this is cheating!” Kaiba’s voice sounded just the tiniest bit strained as he yelled this. Trying once more to dislodge his arm from Joey’s grip.

Another kiss, this one placed on the inside of Kaiba’s wrist. He suppressed a shudder.

“It’s not cheating,” barked Malik from the other side of the playing field. He set a trap card face down on his side. “I read the duel monsters manual front to back, and it mentioned nothing about being molested by blonde men with Brooklyn accents. Besides, this is working to my advantage. Your move.”

Seto Kaiba gnashed his teeth so hard that the grinding was audible. “Wheeler, let go. I need this arm.”

Joey sported the most impish grin, placing a kiss against Kaiba’s shoulder, then another on his cheek.

Kaiba willed himself not to flinch, not to react. He would show no weakness. No one could see how this wrecked him inside. Especially not the pathetic audience he was supposed to call “friends.”

He shot them all a glowering side eye.

Tristan, Yugi, Teá, Duke, Serenity, and Ryou were all sitting on the side lines trying and failing to hold in hysterical laughter. Why had he ever agreed to duel with any of them?

“So do I,” Joey whispered into his ear, low enough so that no one would be able to hear it.

_So do I? What?_ He couldn’t recall what Joey was replying to, his thoughts were too busy tumbling over themselves, brain too short-circuited from trying to process all the conflicting messages from his frayed nerves.

“Wheeler...” Kaiba growled in warning. Because a name was the only thing his tongue would form at this point.

“C’mon Kaiba, ya told him yous could win with one hand tied behind ya back. Pretend I’m da ropes.” His grip on the duel disk tightened, and he traced his nose over the line of Kaiba’s cut jaw, before dipping to place a kiss at the junction between his neck and shoulder.

For the briefest seconds. Ever so fleeting, Kaiba considered forfeiting.

Then he crushed that thought like the most disgusting and worthless insect.

“I. Draw.” He said between clenched teeth. The duel disk—and by extension Joey—was dragged forward, as Kaiba pulled his next card off the top of the deck. He would continue this duel regardless. Win. And when it was over, Joey Wheeler was going to die.


	4. Clumsy (Blindshipping)

**45\. Kisses exchanged as they move around, hitting the edges of tables or nearly tripping over things on the floor before making it to the sofa, or bed.**

Yugi’s back hit the front door. His feet leaving the ground as Atem picked him up, and Yugi wrapped his legs around his waist.

_You’re back._

The door to Yugi’s apartment flew open. Not from physical force, by with a gust of ancient magic, that popped all the locks, and sent the door smashing into the wall.

The two men stumbled inside, Atem still clutching Yugi, his lips marking every inch of exposed skin he could find.

The front door slammed shut behind them, with just as much flare as when it opened.

Yugi kissed Atem’s ear, nipped, then moaned when he felt Atem sink his teeth into his shoulder.

_I missed you._

They hit the corner of the coffee table, sent a lamp crashing to the floor. Atem spared it no mind, and stepped over it. But his foot caught the chord, and he staggered forward, balance dangerously compromised with Yugi clinging to him like a koala.

They were both caught by the back of the couch, and Atem hauled Yugi up so that he was sitting on it. Then he ripped his mouth from where it had been latched to Yugi’s neck—painting that pale skin with possessive bruises—and smashed their lips together.

Teeth clacked, lips pinched, and Yugi’s tongue forced it’s way into Atem’s mouth without so much as an invitation. Atem’s legs trembled with the strain to stand, and his blood coursed akin to magma in his veins. Those lips lit a fire on need in him,

Yugi’s fingers were in his hair, yanking, dragging Atem to him. One hand found Atem’s diadem and ripped if from his forehead. The sound of the gold hitting the floor muffled by the carpet.

“Yugi, is something wrong? I heard the door and-“ Ryou stepped into the living room from the hallway, and stopped dead at the scene before him.

“Get out.” Atem’s baritone nearly shook the room. There wasn’t malice, but the sheer commanding tone of ancient royalty.

Magic bled into the room as thick and suffocating as Atem’s aura. Leaving no room for protests. Yugi was drowning in it. Lost on a high so powerful he didn’t even register his roommate. His focus was locked on the Egyptian pharaoh pressed between his thighs, eyes lidded and breaths ragged, his lips dragging over Atem’s trembling jaw.

Ryou rushed right passed them. Snagged his jacket from the hook by the door, scooped up his keys, and bolted out the door without another word.

Atem wasted no time claiming Yugi’s wanting mouth again. Taking it deeper, finding his tongue again, and sucking. Yugi mewled, and he swallowed the noise. His hips rocking forward and grinding their bodies together.

Small hands dragged him impossibly closer, and suddenly they were falling. Yugi had shifted their weight, until he was falling back, and dragging Atem with him.

The two of them fell into the couch, a tangle of limbs and bodies and a dark violet cape. Half on the cushions, half on the floor. Atem’s shin struck the coffee table, and it was a blessing he was wearing the gold bands or that would have hurt, _badly_.

But there wasn’t time to think about that. Yugi was beneath him, gasping and wanting, kissing with a messy desperation that robbed the air from Atem’s chest.

Atem hooked Yugi’s thigh back over his hip and moved, grinding into the smaller male and reveling at the delicious friction.

“A-Atem!”

He swallowed the cry of his name from his aibou’s lips. It wasn’t the name he wanted, it wasn’t Yugi’s name for him. But in this moment he would take it. Later. There would be time later to make Yugi scream his favorite name. _Mou Hitori no Boku_. Because only Yugi called him that. Not the gods, not their friends, only _him_.

Atem continued moving against Yugi, dragging low moans and breathy sighs from the smaller male. Their kisses were not gentle, but messy and fervid, and laced with need to share the same air once more, even if they no longer shared the same body.

“Pl-please, Aibou.” Atem begged, when he finally had to break for air. “I need you, right now.”


	5. Chaste (Puzzleshipping)

**38\. Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss. (Puzzleshipping)**

Yami stood in the center of a grand cathedral. He looked good. More than good. He was strangely more muscular in appearance than he had ever been while inhabiting Yugi’s body. His hair was spikier, wilder. And his features more mature.

Although, his clothing was near identical to the outfit they’d worn back then. Black leather pants, and sleeveless top. The old school uniform jacket hooked over his shoulders like a cape. A classic duel disk was strapped to his arm, and there was a deck case attached to the second studded belt hanging off his hips. Despite the familiarity of the outfit, Yugi couldn't deny that this Yami filled out those clothes now.

Yugi stood before him, only two feet away. He was taller, the same height as Yami. And his own features had grown sharper with age. But he was still thin and lanky, a much less impressive mirror to the man in front of him. And he wasn’t wearing old school clothes.

Yami’s red gaze was penetrating as he stared at Yugi.

“So, my new game launches soon. We’ve finished all the beta testing. I’m really nervous about it but Grandpa says everyone will love it. He can’t wait to stock it in his shop.” Yugi scratched at the spikes on his head, the temptation to fidget with the puzzle had never gone away, even after all these years. And he’d taken to ruffling his own hair instead. Part of him wanted to buy something new to hang off his neck, but that felt like he’d be replacing something. _Someone_.

“Are we going to play a game? I am the king after all,” Yami inquired, sounding starkly self assured and cocky. Very out of place for such an intimate conversation.

“God, you would have loved this game. I just know it. I wish we could have played it together.”

“Why can’t we play right now?” Yami shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and placed his hands on his hips. He both looked and sounded impatient.

Yugi only smiled painfully. The line of his mouth trembled, and moisture collected in the corners of his eyes. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” He murmured quietly. It wasn’t meant to be heard but Yami reacted anyway.

“Yes it would. We always played the best games.” And when Yami’s baritone spoke this, Yugi almost imagined there was a hint of affection in the tone. But that was only wishful thinking.

“I love you,” the words choked out before he could swallow them back. Yugi stepped forward, closing the distance between them, and brushed a delicate kiss over Yami’s lips.

Even that small amount of contact caused the pixels to distort. Yami didn't react. But then Yugi wasn’t looking at him. He’d closed his eyes and lied to himself. Even though all he’d felt was the static of holographic pixels, and nothing substantial at all.

Yugi pulled away, stepping back and forcing his distance again before he tried something even stupider like hugging the hologram.

“Maybe, I’ll ask Kaiba to program you to play the game,” he said despondently. There really wasn’t any hope in his tone. Because deep down he knew it wouldn’t be the same. A single tear slithered down his cheek before he could blink it back.

“I-I want to pla-pla-pla-play your game with you,” Yami stated, his voice suddenly glitching out and skipping like an old CD player.

“Don’t lie,” Yugi hiccuped, scrubbing the wetness from his eyes. The technical glitches had broken a spell over him. A reminder he was only talking to Kaiba’s incredibly accurate holographic simulation of the Pharaoh. “You just want to play Duel Monsters.”

“Of course I want to play Duel Monst-“ Yami boomed, then the sentence dissolved into static before picking up again with, “n-n-no, duel. Show me-me-me- _me_ your game, Yu...kssshh.” The audio sounded distant, like the speaker had stepped back from the microphone while recording it. But this voice had been constructed entirely synthetically. Then Yami faded out into a mess of static.

For a long moment Yugi could only blink owlishly at the hologram. Confusion, and something else bubbling uncomfortably in his stomach. Something akin to hopeful delusion.

And then he forced it all down like so much bile. His gaze falling to the floor.

“I should tell Kaiba your voice files are malfunctioning,” he said to Yami, a touch of resignation and bitterness. But it was directed at himself. He clicked a button on the control glove he wore, and banished the simulation.

He never saw the pained expression that flickered over the hologram’s features before it blinked out of existence. The setting of the cathedral dissolved away with it in a wash of pixels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you’ve been reading my Deathshipping fanfic, you might recognize what’s happening here. In that fic Yugi keeps visiting Kaiba’s hologram of Atem/Yami to talk to him about his life. And Ryou and Yami Marik caught him at one point, and felt bad, so they started secretly reprogramming holo-Atem/Yami to recognize and respond back to Yugi.
> 
> But what they haven’t realized is that amongst their tinkering, holo-Atem/Yami has started speaking lines and phrases that were never programmed into the script.
> 
> *cue spooky ghost noises*


	6. Secret (Casteshipping)

**12\. Sneaking away to a hidden corner to share a secretive kiss.**

Seth gave him a sharp look.

He paid the high priest no mind. Giving a nod as he excused himself from the library. Two guards moved from either side of the exit, preparing to follow, but he waved a hand at them. A gesture of dismissal.

They bowed submissively, and stayed to attend Priest Seth; who made an about face at this clear disregard for security, and muttered some choice words under his breath.

He ignored this.

Soft-soled shoes made barely a whisper on stone flooring, allowing him to glide through the halls like a phantom. He evaded the attention of three more palace guards, and another one of his priests. Several passages and turns later, he paused near a darkened corridor. This one lead into an alcove where several large jars and crates were kept, a storage area for new shipments that needed to be sorted and catalogued.

He sucked in a breath, the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly standing up. His sharp gaze surveyed the area, taking note of the distinct lack of staff. No guards, no servants, and the slaves were off busy with their evening chores.

A sigh left him, and he made to move on and head for the gardens.

But he only managed a step.

Something caught the back of his cloak, just behind his neck. Jerked. And Suddenly he was dragged back into the alcove among the jars.

Air whooshed from his lungs as he was shoved none too gently into one of the giant ceramic jars.

Something cold and sharp pressed into his neck and his mind immediately recognized it for a knife.

“Greetings, Pharaoh,” a chilling voice hummed lowly next to his ear. “Or should I call you Atem? I don’t consider you _my_ Pharaoh after all.”

“Akeifa*,” Atem hissed. He pressed his hand against the ceramic surface he was still forced upon, but made no struggle.

“Yes,” Akeifa breathed into his ear, thrilling in the way the Pharaoh shivered in his hold. “I waited so long, I almost thought you forgot about me.”

The knife pressed a little harder into Atem’s throat, making him suck in a gasp. Akeifa stepped closer, pressing his muscled form against him, and his other hand released its hold on the cape to roughly grip Atem’s hip.

He snickered when he felt the Pharaoh arch against him. He rolled his hips and reveled in the moan that escaped his prey.

“What would your priests think if they knew you got off on danger,” his tongue traced the edge of Atem’s ear, eliciting another shiver, “like this?”

“Wretched thief.”

“Now now,” chastised Akeifa with teasing lilt. “Those are awfully filthy words to spit at someone whose got your life on a knife tip.” As if to emphasize, he angled the blade so that the tip nicked Atem’s sensitive throat. A drop of blood slithered down his flesh and hit the golden bands he wore.

“You spill the blood of a god,” Atem accused acidly. He pushed against the jar, but only managed to press into the thief behind him, eliciting a sharp breath from his aroused captor.

“Hush,” Akeifa moved the knife from his neck and pressed the flat of the blade against Atem’s perfect lips. “I’ll be spilling more than that tonight, just you wait.”

The Thief King rocked forward as if to prove his point. Atem groaned, bracing his forearm against the top of the jar to steady himself.

In a swift motion, Akeifa turned the man beneath him, pressing his back against the cooled ceramic. He teased the underside of Atem’s chin with the knife point, applying just enough pressure to tilt the Pharaoh into making eye contact.

Heat coursed down Akeifa’s spine, churned within his stomach, and pooled in his groin just from the blazing look Atem gave him.

_Hatred, exhilaration, defiance, lust, a pure all-consuming need._

All of it flashed in the Pharaoh’s eyes.

“Admit it,” the thief purred. He leaned close, using the knife to keep Atem’s stare on him. Their noses were nearly brushing together. His other hand snaked down Atem’s thigh to find the hem of his shenti. “You like to lose control this way.”

Atem parted his lips to respond, a scathing denial on his tongue. But Akeifa silenced him with a bruising kiss.

Fingernails dug into the thief’s shoulders, and he groaned from deep in his throat. Those hands didn’t push him away, instead they dragged him closer. Clawing at him. For him. And then Atem wasn’t fighting him anymore.

Not like that.

The knife made a * _clack_ * as it hit the top of the jar, discarded.

Akeifa pressed Atem into the nearest wall, hand finally sliding up his shenti, and he swallowed the resulting moan.

A wicked smile curled his lips and he bit down on the Pharaoh’s lower lip, tasting blood.

“I own you, Atem~”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was that? I’ve never written a hate relationship before. These two ride that fine line between passion and hatred. Lust and loathing. I was excited to get to write this. Please let me know if I did alright.
> 
> *Akeifa: is the name I use for Theif King Bakura. I am fandom old. And was around when this name, or it’s alternative “Akefia” was used prevelently. This is a name coined for Thief King Bakura. Since “Bakura” technically belongs to Ryou, and not TKB. I like the name, prefer it, and if you don’t like it you can politely yiff off. Thanks. ^w^


	7. Desperate and More (Puzzle/Blindshipping)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Spicy. Gets pretty limey, and I don’t mean that in the British sense.

**22\. A kiss that is leading to more, but is interrupted by a third party. (Blindshipping)**

**And,**

**14\. A kiss so desperate that the two wind around each other, refusing to let go until they are finished. (Puzzleshipping)**

Atem thought he was dying. The way his heart kept stuttering and his breath kept failing. A clear sign of oxygen deprivation was the pulse that kept pounding in his ears, and the way his hands were shaking. He stared at himself in the mirror, and wondered how he was going to face Yugi again. He looked absolutely wrecked.

All night had been like this.

All night Yugi had been at his side. Holding his hand at the mall while they had walked among their friends. It was a gesture between best friends, he’d assured himself. Nothing more. But you’d think it was a lie the way his nerves lit up like one of Kaiba’s blinky hi-tech consoles at the mere contact.

After shopping for a gift for Joey’s sister, their group had wandered into the arcade. Their group always found their way into the arcade.

Joey and Tristan had split off to play a racing game. Bakura and Malik had settled into a fighting game, and Teá had taken on the crowds surrounding the DDR machine. Meanwhile Duke and Ryou had found a table to snack on pizza and flirt over dice. Ryou was always hungry, so the pizza was a given, but Atem noted how Duke never even touched a slice. He was too busy talking dice, and being obvious in how he mooned over Ryou. Not that Ryou ever noticed. Maybe soon though.

But that had been the least of his concerns.

Yugi had slipped a hand into Atem’s pocket, groped around, and it was everything Atem had not to whine.

The sheepish grin his light had given him could have melted an ice cap. Yugi had extracted a bill from Atem’s pocket and held it up.

“Want to play with me?” He’d asked, those begging eyes doing terrible things to Atem’s chest.

Atem had about swallowed his own tongue.

“What?” He’d just barely managed to rasp out.

“Metal Slug,” Yugi clarified. And for the first time Atem had noticed that Yugi was pointing to an arcade cabinet with his free hand.

“Of course,” was all Atem had said. Not what he’d wanted to say, but it was the only appropriate words his mouth could form in the moment.

They’d crowded around the arcade machine, fingers mashing buttons, and hands working the joy-sticks furiously. Their elbows bumped, shoulders brushing, and laughter mingling. Atem remembered feeling breathless, light headed. He had wondered if the arcade was stuffier than usual, and after a half an hour he’d wanted to go run his head under some cool water.

Yugi had kept looking at him, smiling. It wasn’t any different than it always had been. But for some reason it had felt different to Atem. It had felt different for months now.

He couldn’t place his finger on why, but those looks had started to make his stomach churn. Heart pound, veins burn. They made his throat constrict.

And then Yugi had placed his head on Atem’s shoulder when they’d lost their last life and exhausted the last of their quarters. It was such an innocent gesture. Just a friend slumping against their best friend, and nuzzling their face into that best friend’s shoulder.

And circling their arms around said friend’s waist.

And suddenly Atem hadn’t been able to breath anymore. He’d placed the most platonic arm around Yugi’s shoulder and patted him fondly.

It had been fine. It was normal. They were normal.

Then they’d all gone to the theater to see a movie together. The thought of sitting between Bakura and Joey had crossed his mind. It would have been far less agonizing that way. But as it turned out, some wretched teens had snuck into the theater, and there hadn’t been enough seats for everyone in the end.

The smaller members of their group had taken to sitting on laps.

Ryou had taken Bakura’s lap until the Yami had kicked him off, citing “a bony butt.” So, Ryou had nearly sat on Tristan’s lap before Duke caught his wrist and dragged him onto his.

Atem swore blushing had commenced, but it had been a little too dark to be sure.

Then Malik had taken that opportunity to occupy Bakura’s newly vacated lap. Apparently Malik’s butt was not as bony as Ryou’s because he had not been kicked out.

And Yugi—bless his tiny little body, and damn his squirmy little hips—had crawled into Atem’s lap without so much as an invitation. He’d settled into place, head nestled against Atem’s shoulder, and it was a wonder he hadn’t heard the traitorous heart hammering violently against his ribs.

The movie had been torture. He didn’t even remember what it was about. All his focus had been on Yugi and his constantly shifting hips. He’d shut his eyes and focused so acutely on not reacting.

_Calm_. _Calm_. He was calm. This was fine. They were fine. Just friends.

And then Yugi’s nose had brushed a particularly sensitive spot on his neck. Traced a line just below his ear, and that breath had ghosted so tortuously over his jaw.

Atem had had to clap a hand over his own mouth to keep from keening.

And that was how the night found him in the men’s restroom now. He’d practically dumped Yugi off his lap and rushed out of the the theater.

Thankfully all the movies were in session, and the bathroom was conveniently vacated.

He had the privacy to collect his shattered composure. Piece together his broken thoughts, and will away the painful tent in his leather pants.

“Friends, friends, just friend. Best friends,” Atem whispered over an over like a mantra. He shoved his hands into the running water from the tap, and dragged wet fingers through his sweat-soaked spikes.

The effect made him look like a colorful soggy lion. Hair messed up, spikes drooping, and blonde bangs frayed.

_Fan-tucking-fastic_ , his outsides were finally starting to match the mess of his insides.

“Atem?”

He jumped so badly he about crawled onto the bathroom counter. He couldn’t even recall hearing the bathroom door open, so lost to his own thoughts.

“Y-Yugi!” He managed to choke out, his lower back pressed so painfully into the sharp edge of the counter.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes!” The declaration was probably too strained, too sudden and loud.

Yugi was giving him him weird looks. So it definitely was.

“You don’t look so good,” Yugi pointed out, taking a step forward, but pausing again when Atem flinched. “Did I...did I do something wrong?”

“What? Aibou, no. No.” Atem was gesticulating, waving hands while he spoke. He never gesticulated—unless it was during a game, and he was jabbing fingers about—and Yugi knew this, and it was a dead giveaway that something was indeed wrong.

The pained look of doubt and disbelief darkened Yugi’s features, and made Atem feel wretched.

They were best friends, former soul mates, and his relationship with Yugi meant everything to him. He’d seen the way crushes, and romantic attraction could foil those friendships, and create a rift in relationships. He wanted to die before spoiling the closeness that he shared with Yugi.

And so he kept his traitorous heart to himself. He cursed that his feeling had become something other than platonic. That everyday he lived a lie, telling himself that things were just fine, and normal, even though he burned inside at every touch.

He owed Yugi _everything_. And he was determined to suck it up and not ruin everything. Even if it meant lying.

“It’s not you-“

“I tried to kiss your neck in the theater, and I’m sorry!” Yugi suddenly blurted out, eyes shut, and fists balled at his side. A furious blush stained his cheeks, nose, and ears. “I’m making things weird between us, and I’m... sorry.”

Words were not finding Atem. His heart had almost certainly stopped. His knees had given out and he was barely holding himself up with his arms braced against the counter. His brain ceased functioning. Atem.exe had quite literally stopped operating.

A tear slithered down Yugi’s red cheek. It was soon followed by a second on the other side. “You’re my best friend, and I’m ruining it because I love you. And everything I do is selfish because to you it’s just friends, and I should want that too, but instead I _want_ you.” He dragged his wrist over his face, mopping away the tears. “I’m really sorry.”

“Yugi...” but the name only came out as a throaty whisper.

Yugi made a choked noise. Clearly struggling not to start sobbing. He was sensitive and cried easily. Something he hated about himself, but shouldn’t. It was something Atem always admired and adored about him. There was a kind of strength in being attuned to your emotions and being able to express them. Atem still struggled to express himself. But it was Yugi that had awakened his humanity again after 3000 years of being detached from it

About to break down, Yugi spun on his heel and started for the door.

Atem snapped his arm out and caught his wrist. The both of them froze.

“I have wanted you for months.” He tightened his grip on Yugi’s wrist as he said this. “And I thought it was me ruining everything. Please don’t cry.”

Yugi broke into a sob and the next thing Atem knew his light had thrown himself into his chest.

Shaking brown arms wrapped Yugi in a crushing embrace. And this time there wasn’t anything held back. Smaller arms snaked around to grab fistfuls of leather at Atem’s back, and for the first time it felt like their hearts were bared, vulnerable, without a guard.

Atem buried his nose in Yugi’s hair and let himself inhale. “I. Thought. I was dying. All. _Day_.”

“Why?” And there may have been the slightest lace of amusement.

“Because you kept being _you_. And touching me, and holding my hand, and squirming in my lap like some erotic dancer, and all I wanted to do was kiss you. So. Damn. Badly.”

“Oh,” Yugi mumbled against his collarbone. “So, you did notice.”

Atem’s body went rigid.

“The lap thing...” he breathed. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

A small nose traced the line of his collarbone, eliciting a shiver. “Maybe.” Yugi said, sounding coy.

“Oh Ra.” Atem hugged him closer. “Do you know what you did to me?”

“...no?”

“Then allow me to demonstrate.”

Atem bent and brushed his lips against Yugi’s ear. The hands at his back gripped harder at the leather, and he heard the sharp intake of breath. A chuckle escaped his chest, and he moved to place a kiss against the side of his neck.

Little by little he moved down Yugi’s neck, a kiss here, a lick there. He delighted in the tiniest noises the actions elicited. Everything slow, deliberate, careful. Then a nip at the corner of Yugi’s jaw that caused him to tremble from head to toe.

This game was fun. Atem traced his nose back over Yugi’s ear, breath ghosting, then kissed the two piercings at the top. His light mewled. _Very fun._

“P-please kiss me!”

Atem turned his head to oblige, but Yugi already closed the distance between them.

There lips met, and his world clicked into place. _This_ was right. And everything before had been so wrong.

He tilted his head into the kiss, lips moving gently, following his light’s lead. When Yugi’s lips parted, Atem’s followed in kind.

Atem sucked a deep breath through his nose, and groaned when Yugi’s tongue slipped down his throat. A small hand found its way into his hair, yanking, the other hooked around his shoulders.

And then Yugi was climbing him.

It was fortunate he was still next to the counter, or he would have lost his balance. Yugi was off the floor, into his arms, and kissing him so fiercely his toes curled.

Atem’s left hand grabbed Yugi’s ass and hiked him closer, making them both groan from the sudden delicious friction. His right hand gripped his lower back, clawing at the material there, and returning the favor from earlier.

He wouldn’t let go. Couldn’t. Not when he’d yearned this for so long, and now his Aibou was hot and wanting him, kissing him. They were so wrapped up in each other the rest of the world fell away. Nothing mattered but those lips on his.

They slumped against the bathroom counter, Atem’s back supported while Yugi continued to straddle his hips. And they kissed, breathless and starving, a desperate release of all the pent up desires they’d kept hidden for months.

Yugi ground his hips down, making Atem moan. Then he did it again, and Atem broke the kiss to gasp.

The painful erection was back, and he was wearing the worst pants in the world.

In that moment Atem hated leather.

Yugi moved again, and Atem bit into that pale neck to muffle his next undignified noise. There was going to be a mark.

“ _Aaaatem_!”

When Yugi rolled his hips once more, Atem met them with a thrust of his own. It sent them both gasping. Again they moved, then again. Finding a rhythm in meeting the other, a grinding friction, between broken kisses.

“Ah...ah...Gods, A-Aibou,” Atem moaned, dragging lips over his cheek. It felt so good. Agonizing in the leather, but so so good.

Yugi practically rode him through the clothes. Atem took his lips in another open-mouthed kiss. The pain and pleasure became tight in his groin. Tension mounting, his balls clenched, just a bit more, another trust, another grind, a little more and he would...

“What the bloody hell are you two doing in here?”

The door to the bathroom bounced off the wall with the force it had been thrown open.

Atem and Yugi stopped dead. Both men snapped their head around to see Bakura standing in the entrance of the men’s restroom.

“What? What are they doing?” asked a more nasally voice. A second later Malik poked his head over Bakura’s shoulder. “Gross! Get a room guys.”

Atem’s grip loosened, and Yugi slid down his front—both of them wincing from the friction—until feet met the floor once more. Neither stepped apart though, because things were still obviously... up.

Bakura started chuckling, deep dark and from his chest. It echoed through the restroom most eerily. “Consummating your relationship in a public restroom, Pharaoh? Really, I thought you had more class.”

“I-we weren’t-it’s not-“

“I would have done it in the projector booth, personally,” supplied Malik unhelpfully. He tried to squeeze around Bakura who was still taking up the entrance.

But Bakura grabbed his shoulder and dragged him backward before he made it two steps. “Let’s get out of here, Malik. I need a drink. A real one” He nodded at Yugi and Atem adding, “and you two are disgusting.”

“But I need to pee still!” Malik clawed at the doorframe in vain.

They watched him get dragged out of the room, the door swinging shut with their exit, and cutting off the rest of his protests.

Several moments passed in silence, and the situation seemed to crash down on them.

Yugi tentatively glanced up at Atem and worried his bottom lip. Whatever spell had overtaken them before was quickly dissipating in the wake of that intrusion.

“Uh...did you want to finish the movie?”

Atem blinked down at him with a lost expression.

“I have no idea what the movie was even about.”

They finally stepped apart, and another silence passed while they made a half-hearted attempt righting clothes. Neither looked at the other. Atem lamenting the circumstances of their first, second, third kiss, and Yugi realizing he’d been ready to just give it all up in a public restroom.

Finally Atem grabbed his hand and their eyes met again. Something wordless passed.

“Do you want to go home?” Yugi asked.

“Gods yes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not all their friends caught them. But Malik will most definitely blab about it to everyone else. Don’t you worry.
> 
> You didn’t so much get a drabble as an entire oneshot for this prompt. So... hope ya’ll like it. Feedback is delightful.


	8. Umbrella (Bakushipping)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bakushipping: Ryou x Yami Bakura x Thief King Bakura (Akeifa)

**41\. Kisses shared under an umbrella. (Don’t worry, I made them fit. *winks*)**

They were fighting again. Bickering and snarling like two old cats.

The rain was coming down hard, pelting Ryou’s skull. The wind stung his reddened cheeks and nose, and his clothes were soaked through.

Ahead of him Akeifa* and Bakura were tearing at each other. Fighting over a tattered umbrella that had gotten turned out amidst their fighting. It was currently serving no purpose to any of them. And yet the two of them continued to fight over it.

Ryou dragged his sopping scarf tighter around his neck, a feeble attempt to grasp warmth. It only managed to wring more water down his chilled neck. He watched Bakura shove Akeifa into the sidewalk and start biting his brown fingers in an attempt to force the Thief King to release the umbrella’s handle.

Akeifa took a fistful of his hair and began yanking. Trying to dislodge Bakura’s teeth from his hand.

The little group had pretty much stopped moving, and there was still more than a mile to go before they made it home.

Ryou glanced around for someplace to take refuge until the storm passed. But it was late, and most of the shops had closed for the evening.

The two thieves rolled across the pavement before him, slamming into a sodden bench, and dislodging even more water. Not that they even noticed amidst the downpour they were already in.

Ryou considered leaving them, and walking home on his own. But Akeifa didn’t know the city very well, could barely read Japanese, and he couldn’t trust Bakura not to abandon his ancient Egyptian counterpart.

He’d done it before. They were practically the same person, but they got along as well as a snooty old cat and... well, another strange cat.

Ryou spotted an awning over the door of a closed coffee shop. He spared his boyfriends a withering look, seeing that Akeifa had gotten the upper hand and was now shoving Bakura’s face into an overflowing gutter.

He heaved a sigh and retreated under the awning. The wind continued to whip, the rain continued to sting, and the sky turned ever darker with the setting of the sun. Not that you could even see the sun beyond the thick angry storm clouds.

The sounds of swearing, screeching, and snarling were getting drowned out in the deafening drum of the rain.

Ryou hugged himself and wished so badly for a hot shower and a steaming cup of tea. He crouched into a ball, scooting as far under the awning as he could manage, willing his teeth to stop chattering in an exercise of futility.

He was so cold his bones ached. His shoes had squelched with every step, and clothes clung to him uncomfortably.

He probably would have called for a taxi, or a ride from a friend if his cell phone had still been working. He was going to have to stuff it in a jar of rice when he got home to dry out the circuitry.

His eyes were shut tightly, ignoring the fighting men, shutting out the storm around him. Violent shivers wracked his frame.

If he just waited. The rain would let up. Soon he would be home.

The sudden lessening of pelting rain was what caught his attention first. This was soon followed by something blocking out the wind.

Ryou jerked his head up from his arms, and stared into guilty heather and ashamed chocolate brown eyes.

Akeifa stood over Ryou, using his wider frame to shield him from the rain. Bakura was next to him, clutching the bent and abused umbrella in one hand, and using the other to stretch his black leather jacket out to block the wind from hitting their light.

Neither man said a word.

Bakura grimaced, and turned his gaze to the ground. But Akeifa held Ryou’s stare, a silent whisper of apology in his black-flecked heather colored eyes.

Ryou spared him a feeble watery smile.

“Bakura, fix the umbrella,” Akeifa ordered his modern counterpart.

Bakura looked about to snip back, opening his mouth to spit some sort of snide remark, but he shut it again. Akeifa had bent down and scooped Ryou into his muscled arms. Bakura, with his slight build would have struggled to carry Ryou for very long.

The Egyptian straightened up, clutching Ryou to his chest in what was typically called “bridal style.” Not that the ancient thief was familiar with the modern colloquialism.

Bakura righted the umbrella, popping the spokes back into place. He shook out some of the water, not that it really mattered in this storm. Then held it up, leaving enough room for another person beneath.

Akeifa stepped under it easily enough since Bakura was taller than him. He nodded to the paler male, and the former Yami began leading the way home.

Ryou marveled at their sudden change in behavior. A solemn understanding seeming to pass between them, and they were finally working together, finally sharing.

The wind was still biting, and the rain was still torrential, but there was something peaceful about the group now. He curled into Akeifa’s chest, trying to find a warmth that was barely there. The Egyptian thief was just as frigid as he was and Ryou must have felt like a soggy popsicle. And yet, Akeifa held him tighter.

Chilled pale lips placed a kiss against exposed collarbone. Akeifa’s collarbones were always exposed. The man practically refused to button up his shirts, and preferred wearing things that exposed as much of his chest as socially acceptable.

Not that the other two complained. Well, Bakura complained; but then he complained about everything whether he actually liked it or not.

Strong brown arms shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. Ryou dragged his lips to the hollow of Akeifa’s throat, nuzzling, and a breathy groan may have been lost to the storm.

“Ya Amar*, _please_ don’t. You’re making me weak.”

Ryou blinked up at the man holding him tightly. “S-sorry,” he mumbled out, and this time the flush in his cheeks was not from the bitter cold.

“Well, I’m not weak,” bit Bakura. He leaned in and kissed their light right on the mouth. Quick, chaste, but deliberate. When he straightened back up there was a sneer painted over his features. “A mere kiss doesn’t wreck me.”

Akeifa pulled back a lip and actually snarled. An honest to god snarl.

“C’mon you guys, let’s not fight agai-“

But Ryou was cut off when slightly chapped lips claimed his own. Akeifa adjusted his grip to better the angle, and kissed him like a drowning man sought air.

Or like a spiteful bandit king that sought to one-up his future self. Which was just as passionate and starving.

Either way Ryou felt himself melting into the kiss despite the storm raging around them.

“Get off him you tosser!”

Akeifa broke the kiss with a hunger simmering in his half-lidded eyes. Though he never broke eye contact with the slender male in his arms. “Make me, you airy-fairy.”

Bakura made an ugly noise. “Airy- _fairy_? When the hell did you pick up that?” An accusing stare leveled on Ryou, who shrank back into Akeifa’s embrace. The effect of the glare wasn’t as successful as Bakura hoped, since he looked like a drowned cat. But Ryou played along regardless, for the sake of his pride.

“I-I swear it w-wasn’t me.” And the stutter was more from the chill than actually being intimidated.

“Who else would he have picked it up from?”

“Don’t yell at him,” Akeifa butted in, cradling Ryou protectively. “I could just as easily call you things in our own tongue.”

“Piss off.”

“Guys, please,” Ryou tried.

“If that’s how you feel, Ryou and I will shower without you once we get home,” sneered the thief.

“Like hell you are!”

Both men picked up their pace, as if racing to get home first.

Ryou just shrank back against Akeifa’s chest and closed his eyes. The argument was asinine. The apartment shower barely had enough room for one.

But he had the distinct feeling that tonight it would be fitting three, whether he liked it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Akeifa: the name I use for Thief King Bakura. I am fandom old, and I was around when this name was used prevelently for TKB. (Since the name Bakura is Japanese, not Egyptian, and it belongs to Ryou, and Yami Bakura already stole it.) I like the fanon name a lot. And if you don’t then no one is asking you to tell me about it. Pronounced: AH-KAY-FAH.
> 
> *Ya Amar: My Moon (which means my most beautiful) Pronounced: YA KAMAR. An Arabic term of endearment.


	9. Rain (Puzzleshipping)

**25\. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain. (Puzzle/Blindshipping)**

Small hands struck Atem in the chest, pushing him back.

The next thing he knew Yugi was dashing away, out of the little coffee shop they’d been in, and out into an unforgiving rain storm.

“Yugi, wait!”

Atem rushed out of the shop after him, hands burdened by their forgotten drinks; a couple of hot chocolates they’d purchased with the intent to warm up. The heat from the cups licked at his fingers, but he didn’t notice because all around him the rain bit into his skin with icy cold teeth.

For someone so small, Yugi ran so fast. And the darkness of the quickly encroaching night, coupled by the overcast of the rainstorm, quickly swallowed him up. Atem lost sight of him after only a block and couldn’t keep up without sacrificing their drinks.

“Yugi, please!”

He jogged another block, then another. There wasn’t any sign of his Aibou. The rain had completely soaked through his already damp hair, and the limp droopy locks kept falling into his eyes, and sticking to his cheeks.

Atem tried his best to peer through the rain and dim surroundings for any glimpse of Yugi. For any spark of color, any hint of the little teal and black jacket he’d worn that day.

He walked another block before he came upon a tiny park. It’s perimeter kept by a fancy wrought iron fence, and the inside thick with trees and well manicured shrubs and bushes. Paths of beautiful white stones, led the way from the various entrances to the middle, where a modest play structure stood. There were a few swings, a covered tower with a slide, and some monkey bars. There was also a tunnel to crawl through. The kind that kids would hide in when they ran away from home for the day, plotting to live out the rest of their life in the park. Only to abandon that plan and wander back home, when it got dark, they were hungry, and their anger had passed.

Atem dithered at the entrance to the park, still clutching the cocoa cups that weren’t really hot anymore. He finally entered the park, and pitched the cups in the nearest trash receptacle. It was a waste, but he wasn’t about to crawl around a wet playground while balancing two cups. And at least if he found Yugi he’d be able to keep up if he ran again.

He peered at the trees and shrubs as he passed, checked any of the benches, and eventually picked his way to the playground.

Atem crouched down at the entrance of the tunnel and looked in. It was gloomy, and a bit damp, but dryer than any other place.

There wasn’t a Yugi. There was a raccoon though.

Bright shining yellow eyes peered back at him from the gloom. It hissed at him.

Atem’s own eyes suddenly shined gold and a third eye blinked open on his forehead. Pinning the raccoon with an equally penetrating stare.

They sized each other up until the little trash panda broke their stare, and paid him no more mind. It resumed cleaning itself, completely unconcerned with the magic rolling off the ancient soul.

Atem quickly retreated and started for the tower with the slide. He started up the metal latter. Hands and boots slipping on the water slicked rungs, but he managed to make it to the top mostly unscathed. A few minor bruises.

He poked his head over the edge, looking into the covered area of the structure. It was sort of like a little treehouse, with a entrance and an exit. The rest of the structure all rounded walls, and a coned ceiling.

Atem spotted a form huddled against the wall. He would have described it as small if it weren’t inside a structure designed for children, and as such the form easily took up half the available space.

“If you try to run, I will tackle your ass down that slide. There is a mud puddle at the bottom, and I have no qualms rolling around in it with you.”

Yugi didn’t respond and only curled up tighter. His head buried against his knees, and arms hiding his face.

Atem crawled into the structure, occupying the last of the available space, and folded himself against the opposite wall. It wasn’t comfortable, but he was out fo the rain, and the toes of his boots touched Yugi’s sneakers.

For a while they sat in silence. Atem’s eyes moving between watching Yugi and watching the water drip off his own sodden bangs. The rain outside continued to fall, beating the roof of the tower structure, and filling the space between them with a soothing drumming.

All the anger from before, though not gone, seemed to die down. Like a bonfire in a storm.

“I had to tell you goodbye once, and I didn’t think I’d ever get you you back. I can’t do it again.” Yugi’s voice, scratchy and raw, broke the stretch of silence between them.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Atem replied lowly, sincerely.

“You talk like you are. Or you will. I hate how you slip these offhand declarations of devotion into every conversation. Like it’s nothing. Do you even know how they make me feel?”

“Are you referring to what I said to the woman working at the coffee shop?”

“You told her you would die for me.”

Atem tilted his head to the side, “but I would. I would gladly give up my life for yours. In a heart beat.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” Yugi screamed, his head shooting up from his arms for the first time. “I don’t want you to die for me! Ever! I want you to live!”

Atem was taken back, flinching from the assault of Yugi’s sudden outburst.

“How would you feel if I was ready to off myself for you at the drop of a hat? Not that I wouldn’t give my life to protect you if things came to that, thats not point. But imagine if I reminded you of it every day? If I made it sound so casual.”

The muscles in Atem’s throat moved as he swallowed hard, and he stared down at his hands folded over his knees.

“I thought Weevil tore your soul in half...” he started in a throaty whisper. “I thought I lost you forever, and I was ready to kill him if Teá hadn’t stopped me.” A significant minute of silence passed between them again. Atem reliving that agonizing memory, and Yugi taking in his words. “I don’t want to live my new life without you. I _can’t_ live without you.”

“Neither can I,” Yugi replied softly. He reached a hand across the cramped space, his fingertips brushing Atem’s knee.

Atem lifted his own hand to thread his fingers with Yugi’s.

“I want you to place more value in your life. Not just mine.”

“I... understand,” he breathed, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you back at the coffee shop when you told me to stop. I kept going, kept talking...” he trailed off, realizing he was rambling.

Yugi squeezed his hand. “I forgive you.” Then he pushed away from the wall, and crawled across the cramped space to Atem, settling over the thighs of the once Pharaoh until he was straddling his lap.

Atem, tilted his head back to stare up at Yugi. His hands unconsciously went to his light’s hips, thumbs brushing the skin just above the hem of his pants.

“I love you,” Atem whispered and it sounded more like a plea.

Yugi didn’t reply back. Instead he closed the gap between them and kissed Atem. It was soft at first, almost sweet, and tasted of lingering pain. But as Atem tilted his head into it, molded his mouth to Yugi’s, the pain slipped away. Drowned out in a helpless outpour of emotion: need, love, adoration... Yugi’s hands gripped the front of Atem’s drenched royal purple jacket, as if he might slip away if he didn’t hold on.

Their skin was damp from the rain, and their lips were cold and wet. Water dripped from their bangs, slipping over cheeks like tears.

Atem ran his icy hands up Yugi’s hips, under his shirt, to clutch the chilled skin of his sides.

Yugi moaned Atem’s name against his lips, and shuddered, perhaps from the intimacy of the touch or the icy cold. Or both.

Small but equally chilled hands seized either side of Atem’s face, and Yugi kissed him with a reckless intensity and desire. Not like they were dying... but living.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s hard to write these two fighting. Like, they wouldn’t stay mad for the life of me.


	10. Pouting and Demands (Radicalshipping)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was tricky to write, because I had to think long and hard about this shipping dynamic, what circumstances would bring them together, and why they would even get together. But I had fun.

**8\. Laying a gentle kiss to the back of the other’s hand.**

**3\. A breathy demand: “Kiss me” - and what the other person does to respond.**

**16\. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.**

**(Radicalshipping: Yugi x Yami Bakura x Yami Marik)**

“I knew he only liked me for my body,” Bakura spat. He flicked a duel monsters card at the TV and watched it hit the screen and deflect off of Malik’s face and join its brethren on the floor.

They were watching a tournament on the television, and the broadcast was currently wrapping up Malik’s latest duel. He’d been successful of course, and they were in the post duel interviews where Malik was answering questions about his plays. Ryou was with him, their arms thrown over the other’s shoulder in congratulations and friendship.

Malik leaned his head against Ryou’s and smiled at the camera, bright and proud.

Bakura flung another card at the TV.

“I like your body.” Yami Marik pulled off a pair of headphones, and turned away from his game at the desk.

Bakura threw a card at him too. “That’s the whole point you twit! This isn’t _my_ body.” He gestured to himself, his thin lanky frame. There were muscles, because Bakura worked for them. But they weren’t incredibly defined because Ryou had never had that sort of stature. Upon being given a second chance at life, the gods had humbled Bakura by giving him a replica of Ryou’s body, rather than his original body. “And now Malik is shacking up with my former host.”

Marik eyed the television which was still showing the interviews with Malik. He’d been purposely ignoring this portion of the broadcast. Seeing his other half always stirred troubled emotions of resent and anger in him. Feelings he was working hard to overcome.

“They look like friends to me,” Marik remarked.

“Feh,” Bakura shuffled the stack of cards in his hand. He was lounging across the couch, one foot crossed over the other. The floor around the apartment was littered with Duel Monsters cards that he’d been throwing for the last hour.

“Well he certainly wouldn’t like you for your personality,” Marik snipped. “You’re an insufferable bastard.”

“Prick,” Bakura spat.

“Bitch.”

“Wanker.”

“Look! Yugi’s on!” Marik suddenly leaped from the chair and vaulted over the couch. He snatched the remote off the coffee table, and was already turning up the volume. Bakura didn’t bother to move his legs, which didn’t bother Marik at all. He climbed onto the couch, crouching on it like L from Death Note rather than a sane normal person.

Then again, Yami Marik was not a sane and normal person. In the years of separation from Malik—and with the gift of his own body—Marik had grown into himself. In some ways he had matured, grown, and mellowed out, but in other ways he’d developed his own idiosyncrasies, and still had a streak of impulsivity that reared from time to time.

Marik turned up the volume, and even Bakura sat up straighter. The two men watched as the small “King-of-Games” appeared on screen stepping up to a podium on a duel stadium. This tournament was using a classic stadium, rather than Kaiba’s portable duel disk system.

Yugi waved to the crowd, and smiled. Then the cameras switched to his opponent, and they watched as a different person, a taller guy with black hair and a ball cap, stepped up to the opposite podium. He too, waved at the crowd. But he followed it up with a fist pump that awarded him a round of cheers.

Bakura flicked a card at the guy on the screen. It struck the man’s ball cap before bouncing onto the floor.

“Boo!” Marik voiced both their thoughts aloud.

The two Yamis resented their absence from the tournament. They had not been allowed to sign up due to a lack of identification. Kaiba promised that he was working on creating identification for them, as well as obtaining credible backstories and citizenship. They’d only been given their fleshy new bodies less than six months ago, and it had taken a lot of convincing from Yugi to persuade Kaiba to help Marik and Bakura.

Suffice to say Kaiba wasn’t exactly in a rush.

So here they were, at home—Yugi’s home, because he had been the only one willing to take them in—behaving themselves. Sort of.

Yugi’s apartment was a mess right now. The carpet blanketed in a layer of trading cards that Bakura had spent the last hour and a half throwing about.

The desk where Marik had been faired no better. It was covered in the empty cans of energy drinks, sodas, and the occasion alcohol. Marik had a tendency to stay up all night playing MMOs, and the lack of sleep only enhanced his usual crazy unkempt appearance, rather than detract from it. Amongst the cans were the various wrappers of plant protein bars and veggie chips; there were also a few cards here and there that had managed to find their way amongst the mess.

The tournament commenced after a handful of commercials and a few more interviews with the other contestants. It was mostly speculation of who they thought would win, and what strats might be employed from each player.

Bakura muttered his own commentary about Yugi’s strategies, and Marik grunted in agreement.

And then the duel was underway. Yugi was first to go, and played a face down card before ending his turn, and letting his opponent retaliate.

Ball-cap Boy, as the Yamis labeled him, lost his first summoned monster to Yugi’s trap hole.

“Kick his ass!” Screamed Marik. He was clutching the remote between his fingers like a demented gargoyle.

“Not a bad start,” Bakura remarked. “The field is wide open for Yugi to make a counter attack, and Ball-cap Boy only played one face down card.”

The turn passed back to Yugi. He drew a card.

“Yugi has cards to sweep the field of magic and traps,” Marik nodded at the screen, stating the obvious. It wasn’t necessarily for Bakura’s benefit, as they were simply voicing their own thoughts and observations.

Right on cue, Yugi used a Mystical Space Typhoon, and sent Ball-cap’s card to the graveyard. Then he used a Pot of Greed, drew two more cards, and played a Black Magic Ritual spell card. He sent two monsters from his hand, to the graveyard as tribute, and summoned Magician of Black Chaos right to the field.

This was followed by the activation of the field spell, Yami. Which cast the whole holographic playing field into a black and purple miasma. The change in field giving Yugi’s Spellcaster and Fiend type monsters a boost.

Which included Magician of Black Chaos.

Yugi struck his opponent with a savage blow to his life points, then ended his turn. His hand was empty of cards except for one. It was a vulnerable position to be in, but he did have a very powerful monster on the field.

“YAAS!” Marik bounced on the couch and howled at the TV.

“Babysitter had a very lucky hand to start with,” Bakura remarked. “This will hardly be a fair match.”

“Don’t care as long as Yugi fucks him up.”

Bakura nodded his agreement, and they both continued to watch the game unfold.

The duel didn’t conclude as one-sided as the Yamis first predicted. Ball-cap Boy managed to make a come back, and get rid of Yugi’s Magician with a spell card. After that, he had Yugi on the defensive for a bit.

But when the match finally concluded it was with Yugi’s decisive victory.

The cameras momentarily followed the loser as he slunk offstage, as well as a shower of trading cards and popcorn from Marik and Bakura.

When attention returned to Yugi, interviews and congratulations commenced. With his latest win, Yugi would be attending the semi-finals tomorrow, where he would face off against Malik Ishtar, Mai Valentine, and Weevil Underwood. They would draw names tomorrow to decide who would face off against whom.

The Yamis continued to watch the broadcast even after Yugi had excused himself from the cameras, and mysteriously disappeared. No one appeared to be able to locate him again for further interviews, and turned instead to interview various members of the crowd about today’s matches.

Twenty minutes later the apartment door flew open, and the spikey little “King-of-Games,” entered the apartment. He tossed his bag on the floor next to the shoe shelf.

“I’m home! Did you guys catch my duel?”

Bakura quickly snapped the television off and looked over the back of the couch.

“Of course not. I don’t watch bullshit.”

Marik fixed Bakura with a dark stare. Then turned and draped his large frame over the back of the couch to watch Yugi kick his shoes off.

“Oh.” Yugi’s face drooped a bit. “What were you guys watching?”

“The news.”

“My Little Pony.”

This time it was Bakura’s turn to fix Marik with a death glare. “We do _NOT_ watch My Little Pony.”

“Keh, speak for yourself,” Marik muttered, “Discord is my kindred spirit.”

Yugi hung up his jacket and approached the two of them with an infectious smile. A smile different from his other ones, and one he only seemed to wear when he saw them. Whether it was coming home from a long day, or upon seeing them whenever they picked him up from university.

“Did you win?” Bakura inquired, folding his arms over the back of the couch.

Marik struck him with his unsocked foot, where Yugi couldn’t see. “Of course he won. Babysitter is the King.”

“I lost. Big time,” Yugi lamented. He dropped his eyes and kicked the carpet in shame. “Sano, will go on to the semi-finals tomorrow.”

Marik held out his arms, beckoning Yugi to come close for a sympathetic hug.

When he did, the Yami scooped him up instead and dragged Yugi over the back of the couch and onto the cushions between him and Bakura.

Yugi yelped in surprise.

Both Yamis drew over him like a couple of predators. It was akin to being flanked by a lion and lynx.

“Let us console you,” Bakura purred.

“We’ll ease the sting of loss,” Marik added. “Tell us how it happened.”

“You definitely should have won.”

“Especially the play with the graceful charity, and the discarding two dark magicians from your hand to boost the power of Dark Magician Girl. That was a wicked thing to do~”

“Marik! You absolute knob-head!”

“I knew it,” Yugi giggled, and a grin spread over his face from ear to ear. He stared up at the two Yamis. “You did watch my duel.”

One Yami was baring his teeth and scowling so hard that creases formed on his brow. The other was grinning with feral delight.

“I never wanted to play this game in the first place,” Marik defended. He turned his attention to their babysitter and picked up Yugi’s hand, placing a chaste kiss to the back of it. “You sacrificed your most precious monster cards so callously for power. How unlike you. We must be rubbing off on you.” he purred almost sensually.

It sent butterflies squirming in the young man’s stomach.

“Congrats of the victory, My Precious,” he hummed the words against pale skin before dragging his long tongue over Yugi’s hand and fingers. The endearing nickname was something he’d coined for Yugi after the three of them binged a Lord of the Rings marathon. Bakura refused to use it, preferring his own terms for Yugi. So this one was uniquely Marik’s.

“It was a good duel,” Bakura grumbled. He folded his arms over Yugi’s bent knees and rested his chin upon them.

Yugi couldn’t help but beam up at him even whilst Marik slipped one of Yugi’s fingers into his mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t catch that over the sound of my hand being molested.”

“You kicked ass,” Bakura snarled louder, his cheeks suddenly flushing a deep pink. His eyes were staring at the floor off to the side though.

“Thanks.” Yugi knew the admission didn’t come lightly. Bakura was generally sparse with his compliments, and praise did not fall from his tongue lightly.

Marik was now biting Yugi’s fingers, but this didn’t bother him at all. Marik tended to be very bitey, and on numerous occasions Yugi had to get creative covering up various bruises ranging in spots from his neck to his calves.

He leaned his head back to meet Yami Marik’s lovely lavender colored eyes.

“I won my duel. So, do I get a victory kiss?”

A sinister grin pulled over Marik’s face, Yugi’s fingers still caught between his teeth. He released the thoroughly molested hand with one final lingering caress of his tongue and leant forward to place a kiss on Yugi’s cute mouth.

A pale hand intercepted, two fingers placed against Yugi’s lips before Marik could kiss him. “But I thought you lost?” Bakura sneered.

Yugi shot him a pouty look.

“We can pretend he won,” Marik tried to pry Bakura’s hand out of the way.

Bakura pushed against Marik’s forehead with his other hand. “We don’t reward losers.”

“Oh, just kiss me.” Yugi huffed, sounding a bit breathless in his demand.

“Babysitter ordered.”

“Well in that case...” Bakura pushed Yugi’s knees apart and crawled between them. He dipped his head under Marik’s nose and his mouth closed over the Game King’s. It was soft but aggressive, wasting no time coaxing Yugi to let him in, and then letting his tongue slip into the kiss.

Marik growled above them.

Bakura paid him no mind. Relishing the taste, lips moving, molding, and coaxing delightful noises from the male below them. He stole breath and sound like the thief he was, and swallowed them both. And his hand trailed over Yugi’s thigh, fingers raking over more sensitive areas until Yugi arched against him.

They broke apart for air, and Bakura watched Yugi pant, with a playful hunger in his half-lidded eyes.

Yugi blinked, and refocused just past him.

Marik’s mouth was twisted in a pout, and he looked very left out.

Yugi reached both hands up, and dragged the Egyptian down for an upside down kiss, that was more teeth than lips, but no less intense and heated.

Marik made a noise akin to a growl, but more hungry and throaty, and slipped his own hands under Yugi’s head to grasp fistfuls of his colorful spiked hair.

Both men continued to lath the little King-of-Games in attention. Occasionally squabbling with each other over possession of Yugi’s mouth. But both of them spoiling their little keeper with touches and affection.

If someone had asked Yugi six months ago if he would ever have two boyfriends—and both of them the former Yamis of his friends, Malik and Ryou—he would have laughed and called them insane. Six months ago he had still been mourning the loss of Atem. Moping about his departure for the afterlife, even though three years had already passed since the ceremonial duel.

Six months ago he had tentatively taken in the homeless, aimless, pitiable Yamis; whom the gods had saw fit to grant a second chance to redeem their souls. He had been the only one of their friend group willing to give these two the second chance he felt they deserved.

And for awhile they resented him with the same disdain they showed the rest of the world.

But Yugi never ceased being patient and kind, freely giving them his friendship. No strings attached.

They had come to accept it begrudgingly at first. And then coveted it selfishly.

Somewhere along the way friendship had morphed into affection, and feelings became complicated.

A strange relationship of hate, friendship, lust, and loyalty, that sometimes left Yugi feeling lost and drowning. He really liked them both, maybe more than he should. And they couldn’t seem to decide if they liked him, or hated him, but they certainly wanted him.

Things were now very complicated.

All this, compounded on the sinful things they were doing with their mouths, was enough to fray his nerves and light his skin ablaze with sensations and confusing emotions. It left Yugi extremely overwhelmed and dizzy.

He broke from all the attention to catch some much needed breath. Marik and Bakura backed off looking mischievous and starved, their eyes dragging over their little Babysitter like he was a juicy piece of meat.

“Why are there duel monsters cards all over the floor?” Yugi asked, finally taking in his surroundings and the state of his apartment.

“Because Bakura was huffy about staying home, and decided to fling his trading cards at everything,” Marik explained, sounding equal amounts amused and annoyed.

“Actually,” Bakura corrected. “They’re all Marik’s cards.”

Lavender eyes shot up.

“ _What_?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you enjoyed this one, please let me know.


End file.
